The Red Lady
by Liave Ekeli
Summary: Even a pirate sometimes needs a moment of peace. Jack Sparrow seeks just that in an old friend, known only as The Red Lady to most of her clientele.


**Disclaimer: **All characters from the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise are copyright of Disney, Jerry Bruckheimer and any other copyright holders. This story was written purely for entertainment purposes, no money is being made from this, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note: **This is my first time writing a PotC fic. Constructive critisism appreciated, but please don't flame, because that means I'll probably ignore whatever it is you're saying. Be gentle. And enjoy!

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The door creaked as he pushed it open, and he found the room bathed in the soft, golden glow of several wax candles. The warmth of the room hit him like a wave, a stark contrast to the cold draught of the hallway outside, and the smell of some exotic flower he couldn't name floated out to him. He stepped into the warmth of the room.

"Close the door, Jack" he heard her voice say.  
Her voice was rather dark, but still very much a woman's voice. She sat with her back to him in front of a vanity made of dark wood, but he could see her reflection in the oval mirror, and he saw that her eyes were on him. All of her dark brown hair was swept over one shoulder, and she brushed it gently with an ornate silver brush.

He looked around the familiar room. It hadn't changed that much since the last time he had walked through the door. Dark red velvet lay draped over most pieces of furniture, including the bed, made of the same dark wood as the vanity, with just as elaborate carvings. His eyes caught sight of a dragon, twisting and curling its way up one of the bedposts.  
Almost completely hidden in a darkened corner stood a small desk, and on his left, half hidden by several sheets of sheer fabric stood a tub made of solid bronze. It was filled with water, and steam was rising from it. He smiled. Their looks met again in the mirror, and she blinked one eye at him. Slowly he moved towards the tub, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

The warm water felt like heaven against his bare skin. He let himself sink deep into the tub, closed his eyes, and let out the breath he was holding. A few minutes went by in silence before he heard the rustling of fabric against a wooden floor, and silent steps made by bare feet, coming towards him. He didn't bother to open his eyes; he knew very well what she looked like now, coming towards him. He smiled when he felt her lips softly against his neck and the smell of her hair reached his nostrils.  
Slowly he opened his eyes, and saw her smile when she leaned into him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. A lock of her hair fell into the water, but none of them cared. He turned his head in order to make their lips meet again. She smiled again, and straightened, finding a piece of cloth and a bar of soap. Dipping both in the water she let the soap glide against his neck, shoulders and back, and rubbed the same places with the cloth, in an attempt to wash away the sweat and dirt of months at sea. His skin was almost the colour of chestnut, as it was every time she saw him, kissed by the blazing sun at sea.  
He breathed deep with pleasure and felt his shoulders relax as her lips crept across his left shoulder and a bit further down his chest. Gently one of his hands stroked her hair, and she kept washing his body until the water was cold and considerably darker than it had been.

She left him to dry off, and when he walked through the sheer curtains she was sitting on the bed, with her legs curled up under her. He walked over to her and let himself fall onto the bed next to her. He felt that her fingers played with his hair, and one of her hands stroked his face. Her voice murmured in his ear.  
"What's bothering you, Jack?"  
He looked up at her, and saw that she smiled down at him, with that enigmatic smile that had been a trademark of hers as long as he had known her.  
"You could tell?"  
"With you I can always tell, Jack. You never come to me unless there is something bothering you."

Now it was his turn to reach up and touch her face, and smile sadly. She was right, as she usually was.  
"I'm tired, Kate. So tired…"  
She laughed, a melodic laugh that resembled the water chuckling in a creek. Then she bent down and kissed him on the forehead.  
"Of course you are. It must be a tough task being Captain Jack Sparrow. I can only imagine…all the lost treasures, several skirmishes with the East India Trading Company, not to mention all those women, waiting in every port…"

When mentioning the women, she winked at him and grinned, and her voice was teasing him, one of her fingers tracing the outline of the burn mark on his right forearm.  
He closed his eyes and sighed.  
"Do you ever think that we're getting to old for this, Kate?"  
She laughed again and bent down to kiss the ridge of his nose. Then she stretched out her legs and settled down beside him.

"I know we are, Jack. Why do you think there aren't more candles in here? The day light isn't as kind to me as it once was. Darkness is a better friend to me now. But I built myself a fair reputation when I still had all my looks, so a few men still stumble through my door every night, to see what the mysterious Red Lady has in store for them."

"You're lying, Kate. You look just as good now as you did the first time I met you. Now, I on the other hand…"

"…Has seen more seas, more stormy nights and more golden dawns than you had when _you_ stumbled through my door for the first time. But you are the same man, Jack. A pirate, yes, always a pirate, but a good man still." She finished.

He fell silent, not being able to think of anything to say. If he was the same man as he had always been, why was it then that he had begun to feel…old sometimes. Thoughts sometimes invading his mind, thoughts of what might have been, if hadn't refused the East India Company all those years ago. Perhaps he would have been a well-connected merchant, maybe he would have earned enough by now to go ashore and enjoy the comforts of dry land. Maybe he would have taken a wife, maybe he would have had children. Maybe…

"I think the same things, sometimes, Jack."

When he turned his head to stare at her, she merely smiled back.

"Your eyes give you away. You think of the possibility that life might have been better if you had gone in another direction. Those thoughts are mine too. I sometimes think of what would have become of me, if I had been able to make a different choice. Perhaps I would have been an honest woman…who knows?"

His hand stroked her hair, and he was struck by how soft it felt, slipping between his rough hands.

"I did offer you, Kate. I did offer you once…"

"You did." She said gently.

"You offered me once, to make an honest woman of me. And I could have made an honest man of you, Jack Sparrow, and done it gladly. But the Jack I know has been searching for his freedom all his life, and he found it, in his Pearl. I would be a cruel woman indeed to tear him away from that."

"It was a legitimate offer, Kate. But I don't think I would have given it to you if I didn't already know what your answer would be. I don't think I could have loved you otherwise. I knew you wouldn't put the bird in a gilded cage."

Her fingers were now playing with the braids in his hair, and she propped herself up on one elbow to see his face clearly. It was darker around them now, most of the candles having burned down.

"But maybe, Jack Sparrow. Maybe one day this sailor will come ashore, by his own will…and then, maybe then, he will think to ask me again."

He smiled, and kissed her, once again, whispering a soft "maybe" in her ear.

Just then complete darkness enveloped them, as the final candle burned itself out.

As the sunlight crept over the horizon and the first rays of the morning sun came in through her window, she watched him leave with a sad smile on her face. He hadn't looked back when he had slipped out of her embrace at first light. But he didn't have to. He knew what he would have seen, if he had thrown a glance up to her window. And she knew that he knew. That was the way of things between them, those two souls that once in a while found some comfort against a cruel world in each other's arms.


End file.
